The Task of Anthroposophy in the Context of Science and Life
GA 77a — 27 July 1921, Darmstadt
1. Knowledge of Nature and Knowledge of the Mind
Dear fellow students, dear attendees! First of all, I would like to address the esteemed speakers who were kind enough to greet me in such a friendly manner. I assume that this greeting also applies to the spiritual matter that is to be represented here in the course of this college event.
In response to these greetings, I would like to say that I am deeply gratified by them for two fundamental reasons that inspire me in all that I represent of what I call anthroposophical spiritual science. Of course, this anthroposophical spiritual science is still much attacked today, but it will be able to go the way it is meant to go through its inner strength if, among other things, two contemporary forces in particular stand by its side. And it is precisely from these two contemporary forces that your friendly greetings come. Firstly, from those who want to devote themselves to the cultivation of scientific life, and secondly, from the youth. Now, I am deeply convinced that, among the many different conditions that must be met if anthroposophical spiritual science is to go its way, two things are needed above all. The first is that people learn to recognize that this spiritual science, for its part, wants to work out of the strictest scientific spirit. And because it wants to do that, this welcome is particularly valuable to me. And secondly, I am deeply convinced that — however some people who are in the present life may still think about this anthroposophical spiritual science today — what is even more important is how young people think about it. For it is on what young people bring into human development in the coming decades that it will depend on whether we find our way out of the numerous forces of decline and into the forces of awakening. Working towards this goal should also be the aim of anthroposophical spiritual science. It must therefore be particularly satisfying for it to be welcomed by young people. And believe me – believe it, my honored greeters, and believe it, all of you sitting here: the anthroposophical spiritual science will never shy away from justified criticism, from what is above all a completely critical confrontation with itself. On the contrary, it will derive the greatest satisfaction from it when this criticism arises out of a real urge for knowledge and out of the urge to work practically on the goals of human development. Anthroposophical spiritual science is at the beginning of its development; it needs true and honest criticism. It does not need blind trust and cannot really use blind trust. It needs thinking evaluators. May these thinking judges grow up from the youth.
Therefore, because this is my dearest wish, I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the kind words that have just been dedicated to me as the representative of this anthroposophical spiritual science. Thank you very much for that and let me express the wish that what will be presented here in a rather makeshift way in the course of this week, i.e. in a relatively short time, may at least to some extent correspond to your prerequisites in an inspiring way. These prerequisites are certainly such that they are in line with what has just been said, otherwise the event could not have taken place.
And in particular, I must express my heartfelt thanks for the kind invitation extended to me by the student body as a whole. I take this as an expression of the fact that more and more people are realizing that anthroposophical spiritual science, as I represent it, is the opposite of any sectarian endeavor, that it is also the opposite of anything that appeals to any narrow-minded belief or something similar. Therefore, I consider it a source of deep satisfaction to me that the general student body here in Darmstadt has accepted the invitation issued by the special anthroposophical groups. And for this invitation, let me express my heartfelt thanks to all those who have taken part.
Now, dear fellow students, dear attendees, what is called anthroposophical spiritual science today is often judged by wider circles from points of view that could actually be done away with by considering the starting point from which this anthroposophical spiritual science originated. This starting point was certainly not a sectarian one, not a religious confession in the narrower sense of the time, or the like - although the religious denominations, for their part, will have every reason to engage with this anthroposophical spiritual science. The starting point was an examination of the scientific thinking of our more immediate present, the present that roughly encompasses the last decades of the 19th century and the first decades of the 20th century.
The scientific way of thinking has not only taken hold within science itself, but has also conquered a wider sphere of human thought, actually only in recent times. It has been rightly emphasized by insightful minds that the luminaries of modern scientific thinking – let us say Newton, Copernicus, Galileo, even Kepler himself – started out with the followers of an old belief in revelation, as they found it within their own time. The great confrontation between the scientific way of thinking and the great questions of world view only really occurred in the course of the 19th century. And this scientific way of thinking has also taken hold of what is now called “spiritual science”, not on the basis of anthroposophy but in today's official science. It has taken hold of history, for example.
If we look at the development of science on the one hand and the development of historical views on the other, then it must be said that anyone who, with all seriousness and from the inner experiences of the whole human being, the full human being, experienced the last stage of development of our spiritual life at the end of the 19th century and at the beginning of the twentieth century encountered, as it were, two cornerstones; two cornerstones, one of which once caused a great stir but is now almost forgotten, that is, forgotten from the point of view that it is no longer consciously remembered. But it lives on in the way in which questions of world view are treated today. This cornerstone is the once famous “Ignorabimus” – “We will never know” – of Du Bois-Reymond from the 1870s. Du Bois-Reymond, who was a representative natural scientist of his time, wanted to strictly define the boundaries of scientific thought, and he concluded the debates in which the natural scientist's ignorabimus was contained with the words: Natural science will never be able to fathom the essence of the material itself, that is, the essence of that which underlies the external world, the world that can be observed by our senses and dissected by our minds. In the face of this world, one must utter the ignorabimus — Du Bois-Reymond believed — because anything that would go beyond the indicated limits would lead to supernaturalism. This would lead to a kind of supersensible research — Du Bois-Reymond believes, by presenting the sentence in a monumental way, that where supernaturalism begins, science ends.
So the great question that stood at the starting point of anthroposophical thinking and observation was: Is it really the end of all science where supersensible research should begin, or, as Du Bois-Reymond believes, supernaturalism?
But that is only one of the cornerstones. The other cornerstone was provided not by a natural scientist but by a historian, the famous Leopold von Ranke. And again it was an Ignorabimus, a “We cannot and will not know!” Ranke, the great historian, tried with all objectivity to find his way into the course of human development that can be traced through historical documents. And he stated that what we see as the most far-reaching event in the course of the development of the earth, the event of the founding of Christianity, the appearance of Christ Jesus in the course of human development, reaches into this historical becoming. Ranke does not deny that this event was world-shaking in historical evolution; but he asserts that the historical approach must stop at the cause of the origin of Christianity, just as Du Bois-Reymond asserted that science must stop at the supersensible. That which flowed into historical development through the founder of Christianity – says Ranke, for example – belongs to the primal elements of historical becoming – so he expresses it – which methodical historical research cannot approach. Of course, many such primal elements could be pointed out. I have only emphasized the most important one for the Western world in the sense of Leopold von Ranke. That is the other cornerstone. It was erected for the reason that in the course of the 19th century, the education that scientific humanity has received over the last four to five centuries has also developed its powers in other scientific considerations. And even if Leopold von Ranke was far from combining his own historical perspective with natural science, it must be said that natural science, with its great and mighty triumphs and its rightful place in the modern intellectual development of humanity, has also asserted its authority in other fields. These had to, if I may say so, “resemble” it. And so, in essence, Leopold von Ranke's ignorabimus is nothing other than the historical answer to Du Bois-Reymond's scientific ignorabimus.
A confrontation with what was alive in modern spiritual life and – because spiritual life is, after all, at the basis of all human cultural and civilizational development – with all of modern human life: such a confrontation with these two cornerstones stands at the starting point of what anthroposophical spiritual science wanted to become: a confrontation with the scientific way of thinking. And I say explicitly: with the scientific way of thinking. For when this starting point is mentioned, it is not a matter of going into individual scientific results – which have already been so gratefully addressed in the lectures that have been given so far – but rather of looking at the way way in which the scientific researcher wants to relate to reality, and to look in particular at what one has as a human being in terms of one's own human development in the present in the practice of scientific research or even just in the appropriation of scientific results.
You will understand when I say that natural science, especially in the course of the 19th century – although it was prepared for earlier – has gradually developed research methods in which, in particular, those who is engaged in research in any branch of this natural science, acquires an inner scientific conscientiousness and an inner scientific discipline that cannot be acquired in any other way than in this natural scientific research work. And this inner mental discipline, this inner mental conscientiousness, which one can acquire in this way, we need in all of modern civilization and cultural life. The only question that arises is whether science can take what is being cultivated within humanity in terms of conscientiousness and inner discipline, and take it to its ultimate conclusion. No matter whether the results of scientific research are justified or not, and whether they need to be modified in the future or not – the relative lack of justification has indeed been put into perspective by some speakers at these events – the important thing is that even at the most radical extreme, to which science has turned more in the direction of theory than of practice or experiment, this conscientiousness and this inner discipline still underlie it.
We have seen how scientific research has gradually been pushed to work itself out of the qualitative, more and more towards the quantitative. This is, as I said, debatable in terms of results – I am not talking about that now. But I am talking about the education that the researcher has been able to receive precisely from the extreme of this tendency, which has gone so far as to only accept in the field of scientific observation that which can be measured, counted or weighed, that which can be expressed in numbers, in measure or in weight. In certain circles, people profess the view that one can only achieve a certain objectivity if one only accepts as objective that which is subject to number, measure and weight. As I said, in terms of the results, this will be very disputable.
I would now like to consider the other side, the side that may culminate in the question: What does a thinker, a researcher, himself gain by working towards achieving the objective through weight, measure and number? One gains by the fact that one is increasingly compelled to exclude from scientific investigation, from scientific experiment or scientific observation, everything that could flow from the subject, from the human personality itself, into the formulation of these scientific findings. Everything that comes from the human subject itself must go. The aim is to develop a completely objective picture of the world. But if we take this tendency to its logical conclusion, then, my dear audience, the very thing with which the researcher, as it were, moves away from his research, from his observation, from his experiment, with which he rises to the of the laws of nature, then that which he carries away, which he then keeps within himself, must not have any part, not the slightest part, in what he regards as the true external world, as the truly objective. And if we follow this train of thought to its conclusion, we are forced to say: If, in the strictest scientific sense, everything subjective is to be excluded, then what we ultimately carry in our minds, which has emerged from combinations of natural phenomena, must not be in any way part of this external world. But what then of this external world may be in us, that we carry within us when we research, when we are no longer in living interaction with this objectivity through our mental power, but when we only look back on what has worked subjectively in us while we were devoted to research? The subjective must not be stuck inside, it must be recognized as lying entirely within the human being himself. But in so far as the human being must also belong to objectivity, it must not be stuck in the objectivity of the human being himself either. We must therefore carry something of our research results, insofar as they are our soul-good, in us, which has nothing to do with our own objectivity, although it strives to represent a true image of the outside world. By thinking about nature, no kind of being, as we ascribe it to our own objectivity, may be present in this thinking about nature. Therefore, at the starting point of an epistemological consideration, the sentence must be: “I think, therefore I am not.” Only when we dare to contrast this sentence with the great Cartesian fallacy “I think, therefore I am,” only then do we really place ourselves on the ground of scientific thinking.
Today it is necessary to make this turn, to move from the revered, one might say, starting point of modern thinking, from the “cogito, ergo sum” to the “cogito, ergo non sum”, “I think, therefore I am not”! For it is only by realizing the non-being of what we gain from objectivity that we become aware of how we must now address our subjective experience: we must address it as an image. If we understand our soul nature correctly, we live in the image. This is now, in a certain way, the cornerstone – in so far as it is a matter of thinking – of what stands at the starting point of anthroposophical spiritual science.
But what has humanity as such achieved, in particular with regard to – if I may use Lessing's expression – the “education of humanity” through scientific thinking, through the characterized methodology and inner discipline? I would like to particularly point out what has actually been achieved in the course of more recent times. And if we want to appreciate and honor this in the right way, then we have to look back to older times in the development of humanity, to those times when there was not yet a scientific thinking in our present sense, when people did not draw such a strict, conceptual line between what man subjectively brought to the outer world and what is really objectively present in the outer world. Today, one need only take any literary work that wanted to have a scientific character and that still belongs to that older time, which did not have the scientific impact, and one will see how man was not yet able to really separate the subjective from the objective; but how he was also not able to develop something that is precisely one of the most important developmental forces of the latest phase of human history: full self-awareness, full human composure, that places itself in the universe and becomes more and more aware of itself as an individuality, as a personality in this universe. The growth of personality consciousness, the growth of the sense of self, the growth of composure, is what increases to the same extent that modern scientific consciousness arises. Man consolidates himself inwardly, one might say, in relation to all the forces with which he holds his personality together, precisely under the influence of this veneration of the principle of objectivity. Man becomes stronger inwardly as a personality, and his longing for free individuality grows to the same extent that scientific consciousness has developed in recent times. From this consideration alone, something can be inferred, which you will find confirmed when you penetrate into the now already somewhat widespread literature of our anthroposophical spiritual science. And what can follow from this consideration is this: the more man engages in the observation of the sense world and in the gradual processing of this sense world in a scientific way, the more he arrives at an inner consciousness of himself as I. With these two latter elements, that grows in man which securely places him as an I in his whole environment. This should be felt particularly by technicians, because one can develop a feeling there for how the human inner consciousness is changed by looking not only at the establishment of natural laws through observation, through experimentation, but at the weaving of natural laws into what one has to accomplish for the world in terms of instruments, tools, and entire undertakings. In this integration of natural laws into enterprise, in this integration of natural laws into reality, one can feel how human inner composure grows under the influence of a scientific way of thinking.
If we understand this in the right way, my dear audience, then we may ask the question on the other hand: Under what circumstances does this composure decrease? Under what circumstances does one lose this sense of self?
It is remarkable: with the expansion of material knowledge, the sense of self becomes stronger. If, so to speak, you are absorbed in material knowledge, you initially achieve the maximum of the ordinary sense of self. — When does it weaken? Well, you only need to recall the most ordinary, everyday phenomenon that shows when the sense of self weakens. I remind you of the dream, of dreaming. It is not necessary that something has an external reality meaning when you look at this something in order to recognize from it how to enter into true reality. Dreaming can ultimately be made the subject of extraordinarily interesting research, and Johannes Volkelt, a very important philosopher of modern times, published his book on dream fantasy as one of his first literary works. It is a pity that Volkelt then left the paths he had taken with it and through which he could have come very close to real spiritual scientific knowledge, under the power of the latest philosophy. If one really studies the life of dreams, one notices in the course of the dreams many things, but one of the most essential characteristics of interesting dreams is their symbolism. Let us say, for example, that there is some kind of fire alarm outside on the street, but we are still asleep and do not recognize the fire alarm as such. The dream sometimes symbolizes some event to us, which we then recognize when we awaken, as it is symbolic of what appears as an external fire alarm. This is an example of the symbolization of external events. But it is the same with internal states. We dream of a boiling oven and when we awaken we recognize that the boiling oven is the dream symbol that is placed before us for the pounding heart with which we awaken. The dream symbolizes the inner and the outer for us in the strangest way. But we will not be able to deny it: the dream realm represents that in which our ego, so to speak, loses itself again. It goes so far that we experience in our dreams what can only come from our own ego as if it were coming from an alien ego. The dream dissolves our ego, so to speak, as the chaotic manifestation of our soul life, our soul life that is not initially connected to the outside world. It brings us out of the composure into which we grow more and more, especially when we devote ourselves to material knowledge.
And if we follow what initially still appears in dreams in a healthy state, if we follow this through all the phenomena that follow the dream life, through the faint-like states, through the notorious internal states, through many things that otherwise lead the human being from the imaginative to the fantastic and the rhapsodic, if we follow this path to its end, where — in a sense in other metamorphoses — what appears is what characterizes the dream in that the dream is no longer able to grasp reality adequately, but grasps it in the symbol, which is still striving to grasp reality but can no longer grasp it, — if we look at all these phenomena, these feverish phenomena, and also on everything that emerges as pathological states of the soul, one sees the other pole, the pole which, when the I develops according to it, has such an effect on this I that it dissolves, that it comes out of its composure, that it passes over into the unconscious.
Now there is a remarkable connection between these inner experiences of the human being, which at first approach him in a healthy way in his dreams, and then, in the other cases I have listed, approach the pathological more and more. There is a remarkable connection between all these experiences, I would say, between the human being who is becoming egoless and what we can call: a soul life that is free from the body. This is shown simply by the ordinary observation that the actual soul life becomes freer from the body. So on the one hand we have this soul life that is becoming freer from the body. And if we then, as one could say, look for its scientific correlate, we come to something highly peculiar. There is now something that I want to mention here, which is well known in today's external science, but which is actually not always appreciated in its full value and significance.
You all know, my dear attendees, what a great influence the Darwinian direction, the Darwinian type of modern developmental theory, has exerted on all recent intellectual and cultural life. Now there is a point within Darwinian developmental theory that touches in a very strange way on what I have just characterized as inner experience. What I mean is this: the true Darwinist, who has of course been superseded by true science in a sense, but whose way of thinking is still in today's thinking trends, says: the different forms of living beings have developed from each other, in that small, very slight changes , which something that can only be called chance has brought about, have added up more and more, so that finally a living being with certain, let us say morphological peculiarities has developed by transformation into another living being with quite different morphological peculiarities. As a specific example, let us take the development as conceived in Darwinism, that gill-breathing lower creatures would have developed into lung-breathing ones. It has been assumed that the organ that gradually transformed into the lungs was the swim bladder. It was assumed that the swim bladder had undergone a small change by some kind of accident, and that then, again, as a result of such changes accumulating, one organ with a very specific function for the outside world had gradually developed into another organ, so that the gill activity could gradually recede and the lung activity could occur through the swim bladder that had been transformed into the lung.
But certain objections are repeatedly raised against this principle of small changes, and not by the least ingenious naturalists, in that it is emphasized that such changes are actually only pathological in nature due to the rigidity of a living being's organs. If, therefore, the deformation of the swim bladder is ever so slight, it is something pathological, it cannot prove expedient, it must be cast off again; and it is precisely because such slight deformations are to be understood as pathological that no transformations of animal or vegetable organisms can come about in this way.
The important thing for this consideration is that in order to explain progress, one was obliged, in the external study of nature, to look at the pathological, at that which deviates from the strictly organized, from that which is strictly ordered by laws in objectivity.
One can say – and especially when thinking technically, one will be able to develop a feeling for it – that which one can technically achieve, so that one can rely on it in terms of its usefulness, must be so thoroughly organized through the entire arrangement of the mechanical that it does not deviate anywhere from that which one has arranged according to law – precisely so that one can rely on it. Darwinism actually bases its principle of progress entirely on such deviations from the strict organization of nature itself, on deviations from what one might consider – for example in morphology – to be just as strictly organized or mechanized as the mechanism of a machine. It was therefore forced to base progress in the development of living things on deviations, on what many rightly regard as pathological. Is it any wonder that our ego — which draws itself to become a level-headed being precisely from that which is most highly ordered in the external world: from external phenomena — that our ego, when these external phenomena enter even a trace into the pathological, has as a mental antithesis the experience of the descent of consciousness, the loss of consciousness? We can see a remarkable parallelism, a connection between what wants to break out of the lawfulness, what wants to overcome what we have to recognize in external nature or in technology, and what tears the I away from the composure that it achieves precisely through the material observation of the cosmos.
We see here a reference to the other pole. And it is this other pole that spiritual science now refers to with all its energy. For spiritual science opens up methods that can prevent the unconsciousness of the ego when this ego tears itself away from the ordinary organization prescribed for it by the body. All methods of spiritual scientific research work towards tearing the I away from the activity of the body, and yet not allowing it to drift into the unconscious, but consciously guiding it into a world into which it would unconsciously and pathologically enter if the organization were to deviate, without its intervention, from what must be recognized as its own laws.
What has emerged in modern human consciousness is deeply significant: this clinging to the pathological as a principle of progress in development, and then looking at what occurs when there is a deviation from the fixed organization, at the fluttering of the I. The aim of the spiritual-scientific method is to prevent the ego from fluttering, to enable the development of soul and spiritual activity in a healthy and not in an unhealthy way. And this spiritual-scientific method is now being developed in the same strict way as the external scientific method is being developed. It is highly desirable, however, that those who want to do significant research in the spiritual realm have acquired the inner discipline and conscientiousness that I characterized at the beginning of my discussion as the inner discipline and conscientiousness acquired through scientific research. Those who have not undergone the training provided by modern science can basically only produce nebulous ideas in the field of spiritual science. What the anthroposophical spiritual science referred to here aims to achieve should not be confused with the vague and hazy products of mystics or the like, who proceed without this inner discipline, sometimes with downright indiscipline, without this inner conscientiousness, indeed with a lack of conscience, when they present their so-called spiritual experiences to the world, which unfortunately are only too easily believed by the undiscerning. A truly scientific method must be acquired in the same strict sense and on the same presupposition as that on which the training of the natural scientist is based, as is the natural scientific method itself.
There are two things that must be considered first when developing the method of spiritual science. The first is what arises as a necessary force in our everyday soul life and also in our ordinary scientific research, namely the ability to remember or memory. Anyone who has studied the pathological conditions that overtake people when their memory is not intact, when, let us say, certain periods of time since their birth have been erased from their memory — you can find sufficient studies on this in psychiatric literature — anyone who has studied what people experience when their memory is interrupted, will see how this memory forms a basis for ordinary, healthy life. But what does this ability to remember mean? This is precisely what spiritual scientific research shows. We must have this ability to remember in our ordinary human life and also in ordinary science. But if we conduct psychological research, now with unbiased psychology, into what is actually contained in this ability to remember, if we research the development of this ability to remember from the first years of childhood, then we find that the 'ideas that emerge as memories emerge from the depths of our soul are what we have acquired through our experiences in the outside world, even if they appear in many metamorphoses, sometimes also transformed by justified or unjustified imagination. But if you study human development as a whole, you come to see in this memory something like a reflection of our experiential life in our own organism. Just as we see in the mirror what is in front of it — I am using a comparison here for what you will find amply substantiated in the anthroposophical literature —, just as we see in a mirror what is is in front of the mirror and you cannot see behind the mirror, then with ordinary consciousness you can, so to speak, see only as far as a mirror surface, a soul mirror surface, which reflects back the memory images. How the will plays into this cannot be touched upon today; perhaps in one of the next lectures. It is our own organism that reflects what we experience. And just as we cannot look behind the mirror when we stand in front of it, we cannot look inside our own organism and get to know it as a living organism. We have to get to know it from the corpse or from what it shows us in pathological and other deviations. We get to know it from the outside. We do not get to know this organism from the inside for the same reason that we cannot see behind the mirror. However, it is possible if one has first developed this ability to remember to such an extent that one can rely on it, through the special method of meditation as described in my books “How to Know Higher Worlds?” and in the second part of “Occult Science.” In other words, if one is not a nebulous mystic, but a reasonable human being, who is equal to every degree of inner research, so that he cannot be “twisted” when he goes further, — it is possible to “interrupt” the memory through meditation, just as one can break a mirror and then see what is behind it. If this is done through full willpower, in a level-headed manner and while maintaining self-awareness, it leads the person to see beyond memory. It does not lead to pathological states. When a person, through spiritual scientific methods – which I can only describe here in principle – develops lasting ideas that should not be reminiscences, when he devotes himself to meditatively easily comprehensible ideas, when he lets his soul rest on them, concentrating on it, but in such a way that everything is excluded that does not arise from the human application of will, and if he excludes all nebulous mysticism, then the human being does indeed manage to look beyond memory; he manages to come to real self-knowledge. This self-knowledge, which anthroposophical spiritual science must strive for with its empirical methods, is very different from the poetic, in a sense admirable mysticism of a John of the Cross or St. Therese. Those who devote themselves to the writings of these spirits feel the high poetry, feel what reigns in these wonderful images. Those who have become spiritual researchers in the anthroposophical sense know another, know that it is precisely with such spirits from the depths of human nature, into which ordinary consciousness does not look down, that special facts flare up into consciousness, one might say. In the case of a Saint Therese or a Saint John of the Cross, in the human organs, especially in the so-called physical human organs, in the liver, lungs and digestive organs — however prosaic or profane one may consider this, it is not profane for him who sees through the matter. In these physical organs, abnormal things are happening, which “bubble up” into consciousness and become images there, as they then play out in such personalities who are suited to them. But the true spiritual researcher breaks through the mirror of memory. He does not arrive at such nebulous self-knowledge, which is called mysticism and idolized, but he arrives at concrete self-knowledge. He arrives at a living conception of what the human organs are. There the way opens to a real knowledge of the human organization, the way by which spiritual science also leads over into the medical field. But that is only the beginning. For when one looks in this way, through spiritual and supersensible powers, into the actual material substance of the human organism, then one also overcomes the mere material observation of this human organism. For ultimately one sees how that which presents itself as material in man is not merely born out of the hereditary current with which it has only connected itself, but how it is born out of a world that man has passed through before his birth or conception. One looks into the pre-existent human life by means of a detour through material inner knowledge. The pre-existent life becomes a reality through supersensible knowledge. Ordinary mysticism, as it is idolized by uncritical minds, is more of an obstacle to real spiritual knowledge. — That on the one hand.
Another human power that is necessary for life in the most eminent sense, and which must not be broken for this ordinary life, just as little as the power of memory or recollection, is the power of love. Now, you all know how this power of love is bound to the human organism in ordinary life. It only comes into being at a particular age in the way that it has its special significance for social life, namely when a person reaches sexual maturity; before that it is only a kind of preparation — but this love is only a special case of what we call 'love' in general. Just as sexual love is bound to the human organism, so too is love in the ordinary sense bound to the organism. But just as knowledge can be released when memory breaks down, so love can be freed from the human organism when it is developed spiritually and soulfully through a special methodology. We must not, however, call in a trivial sense every manifestation of “platonic love”, which is nothing more than some vapour from the organism, but this love must be developed in the higher sense through human self-discipline, again through exercises as they are given in the writings mentioned. This love, which in ordinary life is not a power of knowledge, can be developed so that it transforms itself into the power of knowledge of true intuition. When we take into our own hands that to which we otherwise only surrender in life, that which actually educates us in life, in self-discipline, when we become, so to speak, more and more our own companion in our self-education in a strictly methodical way, then we arrive at making love a free force in the human being, in the human organization, and then it becomes a power of knowledge. And just as we arrive at self-knowledge by overcoming memory, so we arrive at supersensible knowledge by making love a cognitive activity in relation to the external world. There must be limits to our knowledge of the external world, otherwise we would not be able to develop love in us. If we were not separate from the external world, we could not be so separate from person to person as to develop love in social life. But when we have developed this love to higher knowledge, when we have it in a sufficiently healthy degree, and then develop it to the power of recognition, then we attain knowledge of the world just as we attain self-knowledge in the other way. And this knowledge of the world leads us to the knowledge of that world in which we only live between falling asleep and waking up, when we have no consciousness, when consciousness again fades away. We experience a state that is in some ways similar to the one between falling asleep and waking up, but we experience this state in full consciousness. There we experience a new external world. We do not experience an atomistic world, which underlies the external sense world, but we experience a spiritual world. To educate ourselves in love means to take the step into the true reality of the external world, into spiritual reality; into the reality that our soul absorbs every evening when we fall asleep, when our ordinary consciousness, which is still bound to the body, becomes unconscious because of the longing to return to the body that lies in the bed. When we ascend to a higher consciousness, we become acquainted with the world that consciously receives us when we pass through the gate of death. Thus, the two ends of our human life initially confront us scientifically. Much more will be further characterized in a subsequent lecture. Today, I have only set myself the task of showing how what can be inwardly cultivated in the soul through natural science must be expanded if true spiritual knowledge is to be attained through true spiritual science. Therefore, because the soul wants to educate itself, not in some amateurish, dilettantish way, but in strict methodology, if it wants to ascend from nature-knowledge to spirit-knowledge, therefore one may also believe: Whoever is able to judge from the full humanity what material natural knowledge gives us, and who is able to recognize that we strengthened through material knowledge, will also be able to find his way into the contemplation that seeks this strengthening of the ego on the other, the spiritual side, into which we fall asleep, dream, or which we encounter in pathological states, but which we can develop in a completely healthy way, in order to then advance to a spiritual knowledge of the world. Therefore, I believe that anyone who can fulfill the recognition of nature in the right way will also ascend to a spiritual recognition that is accessible to every human being, but especially to those educated in natural science. Therefore, I believe that the recognition of spiritual science will come precisely through the strengthening of the scientific spirit and the recognition of nature.